Drunk
by IsiGrace
Summary: Intoxication is a powerful thing. It forces out what you've held back, pushes away any filters, frees your bitten tongue, and demands of you pure honesty and truth. Once again, Puck comes home drunk, and once again, Sabrina's the only one awake to help. When this drunken boy asks a question, this scared girl gives an answer she's going to regret. 2nd entry for Ember53608's contest.


**A/N:*hides from tomatoes***

 **THIS WAS SUCH A MONSTER.**

 **okay, first things first, I need to bless and praise the wonderful, glorious Ember for giving me TWO extensions. Bless you, bless your soul, I hope every single puppy you meet automatically loves you.**

 **SO, my prompt for this was "I'm going to need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else", and I originally intended for this to be about a SUPER awkward encounter between Granny Relda and Baba Yaga, until I realized I had no idea how to write that and got major writers block :_;**

 **insert Annie Carter, my beautiful, insane twin who gets every single credit for helping me with the beginning and for beta-ing and just for being an overall hovely person (so many many thanks to you, beb) (and creds to tob the tol tortel as well ^-^)**

 **anyways, this ended up being something I did not expect it to be, and I'm simultaneously satisfied and dissatisfied with this ahahahahahahahah *screams for eight months* the writing itself is only 2350 words but man i feel like i can put so much more in. i'll probably come back to this and add in more details and better transitions.**

 **yes yes yes read it have fun :)**

* * *

Puck _smelled._

As soon as he came crashing in, cream bottle in one hand and beer in the other, his pungent odor suffocated the first floor, nearly choking the person in the next room over. It spread faster than the result of Elvis and sausage (which was saying something) and was more noxious than his usual smell (which was saying something even greater).

When he flung his way through the front door- the same door the Grimms had kindly left unlocked for this very reason- he nearly tripped over the small rug, and almost face-planted onto the floor. Fortunately, his back foot swung forward and managed to keep him stable, saving the floor from a nasty stain of the contents sloshing in Puck's bottles.

This- the crashing in and near fall- happened very quickly, and very, very loudly. Sabrina, who had been having a great time researching colleges and possible scholarships in the next room over, jumped at thee sudden sound and rushed in. One of Sabrina's hands was tight in a fist, prepared to defend herself, while the other gripped a metal poker from the fireplace.

"AAAAH!"

Upon seeing four versions of her, Puck had stepped back in surprise and fallen on his bottom, successfully spilling beer and cream on his colored shirt. He paused, looked up at Sabrina, who was now realizing who the late-night guest was, and curled into the corner, pouting.

"You made me spill" were the only words among his blubbering nonsense Sabrina was able to understand. Internally, she shrugged. _At least he didn't get any on the carpet._

She placed the metal poker on a small table and extended her arm to help Puck stand. Puck accepted, and stood, dusting off his shirt.

"Puck?" Sabrina sighed, raising her eyebrows in annoyance. He'd come home drunk before and she was usually the only one awake to help him. Honestly, she found it annoying. He was an adult- she shouldn't have to babysit him, much less inform him of _this._

"Yeah?" was his slurred response.

"Please keep your anaconda in the zoo."

Puck looked down at his unclothed bottom half and smiled, as if he had just now noticed he was completely exposed. He was oblivious to the thick, uncomfortable silence that blanketed the room alongside his strong odor.

"Hey there," he said, waving to his genitals. Still uncovered, he proudly waltzed into the living room and placed his bare bottom upon the dark leather chair. Sabrina made a mental note to never sit in that chair again.

Thankfully, Puck pulled a blanket off the arm of the chair and pulled it over himself. Sabrina made another mental note.

Still uncomfortable, the blonde daughter silently excused herself to the kitchen to get a glass of water for the house guest. There wasn't much that could help his situation immediately, but lowering Puck's blood-alcohol concentration would at least lessen his future hangover.

The sound of the tap against the glass cup was deafening this late at night. She stood there for a moment, frozen, both deep in thought and drifting in and out of sleep.

When she felt the cool water run over her skin, she pulled back quickly, causing the water from the cup to jump out at her. Sabrina looked down at herself, examining the soaked fabric near the hemline of her shirt. Silently, she cursed at herself, and refilled the glass properly.

Walking back into the living room, Sabrina placed the glass in front of Puck, and gestured for him to drink. Instead, he sat motionless and stared at her shirt. After a few moments of silence, he spoke.

"Wow, Grimm," he began. "I mean, I know you're in love with me, but I didn't know I made you wet so easily. I should come home drunk more often."

Sabrina sighed and glared at him. "You're an idiot. And please don't keep coming home drunk. Honestly, I'm surprised Titania trusts you with the crown jewels."

After a moment of processing, Puck giggled, and laid his head on the back of the chair, eyes closed. His breathing slowed, and he was silent.

Not planning on wasting the quiet that rarely visited the Grimm house, Sabrina reached forward for her laptop, pen, and paper, and started her research again. She was spinning her pen when it flew under the coffee table, and she got on her knees to pick it up.

"Grimm, let's at least get to know each other before you're on your knees like that. I know you want all of this-" Puck gestured to Puck Jr. under the blanket. "-but have some respect for yourself."

Sabrina sighed. She hated having to deal with Drunk Puck. Sighing, she replied.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't even see it there." She squinted for emphasis. "I'm farsighted, so it's hard for me to see small things close up."

"Ouch," Puck feigned offense, but the glint in his green- and still drunk- eyes said otherwise. "Hurts so much. Thankfully, I have a huge ego. And a huge something else."

Puck wiggled his hips and winked at Sabrina, who was now back on the couch, laptop in tow. She nearly gagged.

"Okay, Puck," she began, "I'm going to need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else. Please."

"I don't have to say anything Sabrina." He attempted to be seductive, but failed miserably, his drunken state slurring most of his words. "Let our bodies do all the talking."

Sabrina rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Screw you, Puck."

"Pick a time and place, Grimm."

She sighed. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Three hours past midnight, Sabrina was still researching, and Puck was _still_ awake. He'd been pestering her with stupid questions. Some questions didn't make sense ("Is college like a place you go to call people?") and some Sabrina simply didn't have an answer to ("Why are you so worried about student debt if you're going to live forever? It's not like you'll never pay it off.").

As if the heavens could hear her prayers, Puck suddenly silenced himself. He stared at a warm painting above the fireplace, and ceased his questions.

For what felt like forever- it could've been minutes, it could've been seconds-, the silence stretched on. The soft pattering of Sabrina's fingers against her keyboard were joined by another sound as Puck spoke up again, seeming more sober than before.

As he spoke, she met his gaze, his dark eyes reflecting the dim light above them. His face was blank, but his voice betrayed his attempted mask with guilt drowning his words.

"Are you still mad at me?"

Sabrina froze, knowing what he was talking about. She _was_ pissed, but his voice was so raw, she couldn't bring herself answer. She looked down, and began typing nonsense so he wouldn't notice she had paused. Finally Sabrina spoke, voice steely.

"You're not exactly my favorite person in the world."

Her sarcasm and tone were so cold, she could almost feel the temperature drop. Her hair stood on end, her body suddenly alert. She braced herself for more questions, preparing answers for each one.

"I didn't mean to. He kept looking at you and trying to touch you and I just-"

Sabrina interrupted him, not wanting to sit through a crappy excuse for what he did. "I don't care whether you meant to or not. What matters is that you did. You nearly killed someone. That's never okay."

Her voice was strong, but she stopped speaking, afraid it would crack. Puck spoke again, his gaze focused on the carpet beneath his feet.

"Sabrina, I'm just trying to protect you."

Sabrina closed her laptop silently, and messed with her thumbs. When she spoke, her voice was quiet but strong.

"We're not twelve, Puck. I'm not some kid who needs a bodyguard."

"But you still need me."

It seemed Puck was completely sober now. His face was dry and bold, his eyes staring holes into Sabrina's. He sat facing her, and although he was now wearing unicorn pajama bottoms, he was serious and… doubtful?

Neither person spoke- neither of them could.

Did Sabrina need him?

Their history was complicated, to say the least. The two had dated on and off for years, but they could never make it work. Whenever they had an issue, they would break it off quickly, but somehow always ended up back together. Each one used the other as an outlet, poured down on the other with harsh and cruel emotions. Years of unresolved problems and tension had been built up, but neither had ever been courageous enough to talk about what they really were. Sabrina needed someone to relieve her stress, Puck needed someone to vent to. She needed a punching bag, he needed a pillow.

Did she need him?

In a way, she did. He was her best friend and her confidante. He was the keeper of her secrets, and she was the same for him. He was a drug that wasn't bad, but was still addicting. She hated to admit it, but she didn't like thinking about living without him. Less jokes, less stupid pranks, less late nights on the roof, screaming into every corner of the sky about why the universe wasn't fair. Less fights, less anger, less stress.

Maybe she did need that.

After what had happened, everything around her got worse. Her grades dropped, she lost friends, and she lost respect for herself. She got in more fights, she saw red and she felt grey. She blamed herself for what happened. She was angry and boiling, she was furious at everything.

Everyone around her was abandoning her when she needed them the most. The called her selfish, a traitor, sick and cruel. She was ostracized by everyone.

Everyone except Puck. She could scream at him, she could yell and punch and kick and thrash around until she couldn't breathe, and he would still be there. After Daphne was killed, he was the only one who didn't treat her like trash.

He would calm her down, he would listen to her rants. Puck didn't blame her and didn't act as if it was her fault. He knew she wanted to save her. She was going to save her, she didn't plan on saving herself. She was _so close_ , but not enough. He gave her a small eye in a huge storm. She thought that was what she needed.

What _did_ she need?

Sabrina's back felt warm and tense. She needed a fresh start. She needed to get out of this town. She needed a city where no one knew where she was, a place where no one knew the significance of her last name, and where no one spat in her face. Puck kept her in this town, but she was starting to feel claustrophobic. She needed to get away from this house, from this town, and from this boy.

Finally, _finally,_ Sabrina spoke.

"I… I don't know, Puck."

The sound that came from her mouth didn't feel like hers. It felt like the voice of a little girl who had just found out about a grandma she'd never heard of. It felt much too innocent and afraid for Sabrina's liking, but the words were already out, and she couldn't take them back.

Puck looked down first, and nodded, processing the implications of what she had said. He looked hurt, he looked desperate, and he looked scared.

She immediately wished she could pluck her words out of the air and swallow them back down.

He continued nodding, and stood up. Every cell in her body wanted to beg him to sit back down and talk to her, but something kept her feet planted and her mouth sewn shut.

"Goodnight, Sabrina."

She heard footsteps climb the creaky wooden stairs, and could barely force a similar reply beyond her lips.

He never heard it.

* * *

Sabrina woke up with a very warm sensation across the skin of her stomach. She perked up on one arm and glanced down to see her laptop on top of her, illuminated by the early light coming in from a near window. For a while, she simply stared at the ceiling above her, fascinated with the bits of dust that became visible in the rays of sunlight.

Memories of the night before rushed in quickly, and Sabrina felt like _she_ was the one with the hangover. Her head throbbed with regret and her stomach churned with guilt. She pushed her laptop onto the coffee table and pulled herself upstairs.

Puck's door was ajar, which was odd, because he always closed it. She wandered in and around his room, searching for any sign of his presence. His trampoline was empty, every tree void of his being, every trail lacking any footprints leading to him.

She then found herself in the kitchen, inspecting the countertops, looking for any misplaced spice, discarded wrapper, or left out plate. All she needed was a sign he was there, but she came up with nothing.

Every step she took towards the front door of the house, she felt herself regret. She wanted to run in her room and hide, she wanted to wake up from whatever kind of awful dream this was. Stepping up to the door, she clasped her shaky hand around the cold, metal knob, and turned.

Outside, her bare feet froze against the pale cement, and she saw the driveway only occupied by one car, by the old jalopy.

Sabrina took a deep breath and stepped inside. She closed the door. She turned around. Her movements were robotic and forced. She commanded her knees to bend as she climbed the stairs and marched into her room.

The light walls and airy curtains in her vision felt alien. She sunk into the soft mattress of her bed, and would scream at herself if she had the energy or motivation. For hours, she lay, analyzing every word she said and every mistake she made.

Eventually, she accepted what had happened.

Puck was gone, and it was her fault.

* * *

 **A/N: asdfghjkl how do you like?**

 **sidenote: the majority of this was written at like 11 pm, so help a sister out, and let me know if you see any grammar errors i missed, ahhahaha :)**

 **ALSO theres a ton (read: like three) of reviews i havent replied to yet, but I AM GOING TO REPLY TO YOU. I SEE YOU. I APPRECIATE YOU.**

 **i havent been on ffn for about three months *hides from tomatoes again* but i am hoping to get better at reviewing and replying and updating- with thanksgiving break (i get a week for that? what?) and christmas break coming around the corner, i _should_ have more time**

 **disclaimer: i only own the fanfiction i write, not the original story itself.**

 **hey kid. yeah, you. kid. do you wanna *looks around* _leave a review? ;)_**


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